Mothering Day
by jibber59
Summary: It was nothing more that a day to honour Mothers. How could anyone have a problem with that? (Happy Mothering Sunday to all our British readers!)


"You get a look at the fellow that got off the stage this afternoon?" JD was sitting in front of the jail, killing time on a boring Sunday afternoon.

"Nah - was otherwise occupied." Buck grinned broadly at the memory of how he'd spent that part of his day. "Anything we should be worried about?"

"No, wasn't anything like that. He was just something fancy to see."

"How so?"

"Well, for one thing, his clothes made even Ezra's look kind of dull."

"Whoa. Not possible."

"Yeah, and if you think my hat looks fancy wait to you see his. Same style and all but looks way better. A lot more expensive."

"A well-tailored visitor is most assuredly a rarity and our community, although I object to being labelled as dull in comparison."

"No offense Ezra. Guess we're all just kinda used to you by now."

The elegant gambler smiled. "If that is the case I shall have to make an effort to find a way to be more interesting."

"Have to go quite a ways to beat this fella. He's got a long coat, a walking stick – hang on – that's him."

Buck and Ezra turned to check out the subject of their discussion.

"Whooee! That is one fancy looking man."

"Popinjay."

"What?" They both looked at Ezra.

"Popinjay. Dandy. The French word for it would be Flaneur."

"Figures there'd be flowery words to go with it."

"There are many ways of describing a gentleman who dresses to impress Mr. Wilmington. For your edification, a lady similarly attired would be called a quaintrelle."

Buck shook his head. "How do you keep all those words in your head Ezra?"

"I wonder what his purpose for visiting Four Corners might be."

"Doubt he's got one." JD answered. "Stage has to stay put for the night. One of the horses pulled up lame so they're staying over is all. He's likely on his way to San Francisco."

"That is most regrettable. He might have proven to be an interesting addition to our community."

"Well, looks like he's headed over to the saloon so why don't you just wander over and get acquainted." Buck grinned. "See if you got more in common than just your wardrobe."

"An excellent suggestion." Ezra grinned as he headed off.

"Come on kid, this could be fun."

"I'm on guard duty."

"Guarding what? An empty building? Come on."

Ezra was far enough ahead of them that he'd already entered by the time JD agreed to take the afternoon off. When they entered, they spotted Vin and Chris at the corner table, and headed over to join them.

"Who's the stranger?" Chris asked quietly.

"No idea, but I'm guessing Ezra will have his life story in no time."

Most eyes in the place had followed the newcomer as he entered and headed straight to the bar. He'd spoken softly to the bartender, who had been shaking his head to every request made. It was clear the gentleman was getting increasingly frustrated by the time Ezra had stepped up beside him.

"You would appear to be encountering some difficulty in finding a suitable libation."

"Your pub is decidedly lacking in my usual preferences."

Ezra was instantly trying to narrow down the locale for the British accent.

"While I would assume that a Hendrick's Gin, or perhaps more likely Morrison's would be your preference, I have to reluctantly confirm such options are scarce in this part of the world. Might I offer you a taste for my personal stock as compensation? I have an excellent Scotch Whiskey."

"Most kind of you Mr.…"

"Forgive me. Ezra Standish at your service."

"Delighted to make your acquaintance. I am Winston Pendergrass, the Third."

 _Of course you are_ , Ezra thought to himself. _It simply wouldn't do if you didn't have a number_.

"Given I have a particular reason for wanting to have a drink tonight, I will happily accept your offer."

"You will find most people here don't really require a reason."

"Yes, I have noticed that trait."

Ezra nodded to Randall, who retrieved the gambler's private bottle and poured two shots out before tucking it back into its reserved spot.

"And to what special event are we raising our glasses today?"

"To our mothers of course." Ezra nearly choked on his drink, and even at the distance, he could hear the laughter from the corner.

"Our mothers?"

"Yes. It is Mothering Sunday after all."

"It is what?"

"Mothering Sunday. The day set aside specifically to honour and pay tribute to our sainted mothers. From your face, I assume this practice has not been adopted by the colonies." There was a decided note of disdain in his voice, and Ezra was rapidly regretting his decision to join the man.

"The colonies have been not been subjected to the whims of the British cudgel for close to a century Sir. And have flourished as a result."

He looked around at the saloon. "Yes, clearly you are a thriving nation."

"We are a nation of strong, independent men and women who do not feel the need to scrape and bow to any archaic institution."

"Please. You can't even keep peace amongst yourselves."

"We have learned from our past and grow and flourish as a result. And before you go any further in putting on airs, you might elect to recall that it was under British rule and their blind eye that the slave trade flourished in the first place."

Chris looked over to Buck. This was getting out of hand quickly, and totally unexpectedly. He was about to rise when Pendergrass took a step back.

"My apologies Mr. Standish. You have been kind enough to offer a drink and I repay you with insults. It was certainly not intended, I assure you. I can lay the blame only at my fatigue and homesickness, not that that excuses my outburst."

Ezra didn't look ready to let it go but realized there was nothing to be gained. He wasn't even sure himself where his defensiveness came from.

"I shall accept and offer my own apology as well. Dreadful way to treat a guest. So, Mothering Sunday?"

"As it sounds, a day to express gratitude and appreciation to the first women woman we all loved. To remember the care and nurturing so lovingly bestowed on us."

"Indeed." Ezra was having a great deal of trouble keeping his instinctive reactions under control.

"I suppose you will tell me that here in the a colo – in your country, mothers are given that consideration every day."

"Some are, I am sure." _Those who deserve it_ , he added to himself. "But I can appreciate the concept you describe."

"I imagine it is the fact that I am so far away, missing both home and family, that has made me so defensive.

"That would be a reasonable reaction."

Pendergrass raised his glass, and his voice. "Here is to all mothers, both here and in England. The most important people in our lives, as we are in theirs."

Several others raised their glasses as well, vocalizing a response. Pendergrass didn't notice that while Ezra raised his own glass, he didn't drink. The rest of the team did notice.

"Well Mr. Standish. I thank you again for your generosity, and I shall take my leave."

"So soon? I had been hoping perhaps to interest you in a card game or some similar activity."

"Oh, my heavens no. I never gamble. Terribly uncivilized." Ezra bristled quietly as he bid the man a good day and made his way over to the table.

"One word, one comment from any of you, and I will not be held accountable for my actions."

"The guy's an idiot Ezra. Don't let him get to you." Vin advised.

"What 'gets to me' is that I wasted perfectly good Scotch on such a – such a –"

"Popinjay?" JD offered with a grin.

"Excellent Mr. Dunne. I'm glad to see you are increasing your vocabulary."

JDs grin faded a bit. "I did like what he was talking about though. That Mothering Day idea."

Ezra snorted slightly but said nothing.

"Yeah, kind of a nice thought." Vin added. "A specific day to say thanks I guess."

"There should be something like that over here as well." Buck was quick to agree with the others. "I mean, when you think about all our mothers have done for us. We should be doing something special in return."

"How come you didn't drink the toast Ezra?" JD asked.

Ezra had been growing increasingly agitated at the discussion. "You can seriously make that inquiry Mr. Dunne? Having met my mother? This notion you have all been endorsing and paying homage to in this manner is an anathema to me. The words, ideas that are being expressed – nurturing, supportive, caring, loving. Mother would require a dictionary to understand the concepts."

"Yeah, but still –"

"There is no room for a conditional relief in this. No room for excuses."

"But Ezra, she's your ma."

"A title that holds no significance and means nothing JD. I might just as well raise a toast to a hotel clerk, or a boarding house matron, or train conductor. They spent as much time raising me, caring for me, as did my mother. Or more." He had no idea where this vitriol was coming from. That he felt like this was no surprise to him, but the fact that he couldn't seem to stop himself from verbalizing it both puzzled and mortified him. "Mr. Dunne, the only way that woman could have been less maternal to me was if she'd been dead. If you gentlemen will excuse me, I am done with this conversation."

He spun on his heel but rather than heading out, he went back to the bar for another drink. He planned to follow that with several more. He heard the scraping of a chair across the floor behind him as he left, immediately followed by Chris's voice. "Leave it be Buck."

"But –"

"Leave him Buck. I'm fine." JD added.

Ezra didn't understand the exchange, and at this moment could not possibly have cared less about it. Conversation returned to a normal level in the saloon, but he could still feel four sets of eyes on him. Fine, let them stare. It was a rare occurrence for Ezra Standish to lose control, so it was no wonder they gawked. There were so few things that could set him off that way. Well, really only one. Even when she was nowhere near, Maude could find a way to upset his day. His life.

And damn that Brit for showing up in the first place. It had been a perfectly pleasant Sunday before he showed up with his pompous attitude and pretentious holiday. Mothering Day indeed!

He looked up at the reflection of the others in the mirror above the bar. They no longer seem to be glaring at him, but the frequent glances made it evident he was still part of the discussion. He wished that they would just revel in their memories instead. Better yet, let them revel when he was not around. All of them had stories to tell, and regardless of how difficult things may have been on occasion, they all spoke fondly, all cherishing those times. However recent or distant the memory might be. Where as he was hard-pressed to find a memory not associated with the scheme or plan or just as often an escape. And he was still on guard, almost living in fear, still aware that at any moment she could do the one thing that all others wished could happen – come back to him.

Ezra blanched, and found himself holding onto the bar to stay upright as he heard his voice in his head replay the comment he'd made. "if she'd been dead." How could he be so stupid, so selfish and so incredibly insensitive? And he'd been looking straight at JD when he said it. The young man's mother hadn't even been gone a year, and here he was saying – well he simply couldn't bear to think about it again. He tossed back the drink he held, barely tasting it. As much as he would have loved to have turned and simply disappeared, he realized he had to accept the fact that that was not an option. He slowly walked back to the table, compelling himself to make eye contact with JD when he was close enough. He ignored the fact that Buck stood, looking ready to take him down before he'd have a chance to speak. It was likely only Vin's restraining hand that kept Ezra from meeting that fate.

"I do not believe that even I possess a knowledge of any words suitable to express my regret at my earlier speech Mr. Dunne. My comments, and the lack of thought that preceded them are beyond unforgivable, therefore I don't expect you to absolve me of my guilt." He started to leave but was blocked by Chris.

"Sit down Ezra."

"No."

"Please." JD asked. That plea left the gambler no choice.

"We're the ones who should be apologizing," JD continued. "Shouldn't have been going on like that, knowing how things are with you and your – with you and Maude.

"With all due respect, that is absurd. Not only have you every right, you have every reason to speak fondly of your families. Of your mothers. Especially you Mr. Dunne. Yours are fresh memories, and recent pain. I was thoughtless."

"You were human Ezra." Vin corrected. "Nobody took it personally." He looked at Buck. "Did they?"

Buck sat back down. "Yeah, I did, but I shouldn't have. Didn't agree with you and didn't like what you said to the kid. But Vin's right. I know – we know – you didn't mean nothing by it. The kid was right too."

"About what?" Ezra asked at the same time JD kicked Buck under the table. Buck ignored it.

"Why you said what you did."

"Please enlighten me, as I cannot imagine a justification for my actions."

"You're jealous."

"Shut up Buck." Chris growled.

Ezra stared quietly, initially shocked but gradually recognizing the accuracy of the observation. "I believe Mr. Dunne possesses a greater insight a human nature than we have given him credit for. Unfortunately, his assessment only adds to my shame. Jealousy is a petty motive, and one I am loathe to surrender to."

"Stop beating yourself up Ezra. This isn't worth it." JD advised. "Yeah, I miss my mom. But I feel worse about the fact you don't miss yours. I'm sorry, but I think that's just sad."

"That sentiment alone shows what a fine woman she was, to raise you into the young man you have become. You are a tribute to your mother. You all are. I cannot avoid the ironic truth that I have behaved in the manner every bit as callous, self-absorbed, and as abhorrent as I accuse her of doing. I am truly my mother's son."

"Would your mother have come over here to apologize Ezra? Would she be damn near unable to look any one of us in the eye because what she'd said tore her up that much?"

"Heavens no Mr. Larabee. She likely would be oblivious to the fact she had been so heartless and inconsiderate."

"So, you ain't like her then." Buck concluded.

Ezra hesitated. "I strive to improve." He rose, holding a hand to stop their objections as he went behind the bar to recover his special bottle, and a handful of glasses. At the table, he poured out the shots.

"A toast. To the sons who are what their mothers made them. You have all made the ladies proud."

"And a toast of the sons who have risen above what their mothers made them." Vin added. Ezra smiled and gave a slightly reluctant nod of acknowledgement, before downing his drink.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-

 _Just a little "Mothering Sunday" treat for any of our readers in Great Britain. I had to bring the British influence into the story, when I discovered Mother's Day did not exist in North America at the time our boys would have been around. It wasn't until into the 20_ _th_ _century that we began formally paying tribute to these special women._


End file.
